


You Are My Sunshine

by Miso, MrFredgar



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: And it's Hosea's, Angst, Babies, Bessie has a baby, Character Death, Children, Complicated Relationships, Complicated birth, Dutch isn't happy, Family, Fluff, Outlaws with babies, Romance, The Birdcage inspired this story, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-09-17 11:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 19,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16973877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/pseuds/Miso, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrFredgar/pseuds/MrFredgar
Summary: Bessie reveals she's pregnant with Hosea's child. This of course does not go over well with Dutch. But somehow our gay cowboys manage to work it out and raise the child together.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miso](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miso/gifts).



> The prologue was written by the wonderful Miso, who also created amazing Vandermatthews head canons that I use regularly and overall inspires me to write fan fiction again for the first time in over 8 years.

Hosea practically choked on his coffee when Bessie spoke, chewing her lip and not looking at him, blue-grey eyes downcast to the ground. “You’re what?” he asked once he got the drink down, pounding his chest a couple of times to clear his airway.

“I’m pregnant, Hosea.”

Silence.

Anything else failing him, the stupidest thing Hosea could have said came out instead. “Is… is it mine?”

“What? Of course it’s yours.” Bessie wasn’t entirely sure how to react to that, and she chose to ignore it. Hosea sat with his head in his hands, running his fingers through his hair. “Are you okay…?”

“I… I don’t know.”

“… You’re worried about what Dutch is gonna say, ain’t you?”

“Of course I am! I… he knows about us, yeah, but… I didn’t expect…” Hosea felt tears burn his eyes, and whether they were joyous or fearful, he wasn’t sure. “God. What are we gonna do? A gang’s no place to raise a child.”

“… We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, honey.” Bessie rubbed Hosea’s shoulders gently. “You gonna be alright?”

“I… need a minute.”

Hosea would later vehemently deny fainting off the crate


	2. With Arms Wide Open

Dutch didn’t take Bessie’s pregnancy well. Not at all. There was a lot of yelling, and he may have thrown some books at Hosea’s head, along with a vase or two. Hosea tried to reason with him, that Dutch was the one he loved, but he also felt things for Bessie, and sometimes those feelings became physical. Dutch didn’t like that one bit. Bessie stepping in didn’t help either, in fact it only made matters worse.

“Get. Out. Both of you.” Dutch had his back to Hosea, and when the older man tried to reach for him Dutch flinched away. “I-I need some time.” Dutch’s voice quivered and his shoulders shook with sobs. Hosea’s heart broke for him, and the pain he caused.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was several weeks before Dutch would even talk to Hosea, and Hosea was beginning to believe that he and Dutch were over, and the mood in the camp reflected the tense relationship between the two men. Everyone was on edge and walked on eggshells around Dutch.

“Hosea, may I speak with you a moment…in private.”

Hosea wasn’t sure if he should be relieved Dutch was speaking to him, or worried that he was being drawn away from camp. Either way he followed Dutch.

They walked just outside of earshot of the others, Bessie and Arthur unsure if they themselves should feel elated or nervous.

“I’ve been doing some thinking. And I’m not sure how I feel about this whole ‘pregnancy’ thing, but I won’t hold any of it against you. I-I think I love you too much to ever end it between us, no matter what happens. Basically what I’m saying is…can we just, get past this, move on as it were?”

Hosea was at a lost for words, he didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know if there was anything to say, but he decided that he to loved Dutch and he was willing to work it out. “Yes. Oh god yes Dutch.”

Dutch nodded, looking down. He wasn’t sure if he could handle hugging Hosea or not, so he decided against it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next several months Dutch and Hosea re-connected, trying to figure out how to handle loving each other, while Hosea was still partially in love with Bessie, and fathering her child. To say it was difficult and they didn’t have arguments that made the whole camp scatter would be an understatement, but in some weird way, they managed it.

It was decided amongst the three of them that Dutch would be the “uncle” of sorts, while Bessie and Hosea would of course be the parents, choosing not to explain the complicated nature of their relationship to the child until he or she was much, much, much older. Also deciding that Hosea and Bessie would be less of a happily married couple and more good friends who had a child together, an arrangement Dutch more or less enjoyed.

It wasn’t until Bessie gave birth that their plans, carefully made or not, fell to pieces. The birth was difficult and complicated. They eventually had to get the town doctor involved. But things had progressed too far for the worse by the time the doctor arrived. The man gave Hosea a choice; save the child and loose Bessie, or loose them both. 

“I-is there any chance of saving her, even if it means loosing the baby?” Hosea was frantic, too tired and panicked to think straight. The doctor shook his head solemnly. Hosea told the doctor to proceed with saving the child.

Hosea wasn’t sure if that was the right choice. He wasn’t sure if he could handle raising a child that had caused Bessie’s death. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. He paced back and forth of the doctors waiting room for what felt like hours, Dutch by his side and watching him carefully.

Finally Hosea expressed his concerns to Dutch, fearing what the man might think of him. Dutch stood and wrapped his arms around the older man, planting a gentle kiss in his hair. “No matter what, I will always love you. If you cannot bare to raise this child, then we will find a good home for them. If you decide otherwise, I’ll be right by your side. You will never be alone Hosea.” Hosea melted against Dutch, for the first time since this all started he felt safe and at home within Dutch’s arms. 

The door to the operating room opened and the two men jumped away. The doctor exited carrying a crying bundle, and offered it to Hosea. “Congratulations, you have a beautiful healthy baby girl.” Hosea instinctively reached out to receive the baby, and he knew then that it did not matter what had happened that day, this was his daughter and he would raise her.

Dutch looked over Hosea’s shoulder, the older man trying to wipe away tears as he held his daughter for the first time. “Hello there, I’m your daddy, and I promise to always protect and love you.” Dutch squeezed his shoulder, fighting his own tears.

The doctor cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the men. “I’m very sorry to interrupt, but would you like to say goodbye to your wife?” Hosea merely nodded, handing his daughter to Dutch, kissing her newborn head before he left.

Dutch looked at the child, contemplating the new future before him. The girl had wisps of brown hair and many freckles dotting her face, just like her mother. But the eyes, the eyes were a deep, rich blue Dutch had only seen once in his life, the eyes of her father. 

“Hello, my name is Dutch and I’m your…your…well we can figure that out later. For right now I want you to know that your are wonderful, and beautiful, and I will kill anyone who ever tries to do you harm. You have two wonderful older brothers waiting to meet you.” Dutch whispered to the little child.

Hosea re-emerged from the operating room wiping away fresh tears, and signing papers, presumably both death and birth certificates for Bessie and the baby. Hosea looked up at the sight before him and his heart swelled so much he was sure it would burst. He never had seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

The two men received all the aftercare instructions from the doctor, and bid him ado, taking this new life back to camp.

“So Hosea, did you pick out a name?” Dutch finally asked

“Delilah. Delilah Matthews.” Hosea answered looking at the child in question. Hosea hesitated for a moment, causing Dutch to turn and look at him, a question on his face. “Dutch, I-I don’t know how to thank you. No, let me finish. You’ve given so many second chances throughout this that I can never repay you or ever fully express what you mean to me…but I was hoping you would be Delilah’s father, well her second father. You know, like how we are with Arthur and John.”

“Hosea, I would be honored. I love you, and I love this child as if she were my own flesh and blood.” Dutch leaned over and kissed Hosea firmly on the lips for the first time in nine months. Delilah yawned at her two fathers, causing the two men to chuckle quietly and Hosea to stroke a finger across her cheek.

“She looks like her mother, but she has your eyes. She’ll be a looker some day and we’ll have a hard time keeping boys away.” Dutch joked. Hosea just gave him a pointed look, and Dutch laughed at him.


	3. We Are Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delilah has an exciting infancy, but do we expect being raised by the Van der Linde Gang.

Caring for a child within a camp of outlaws was more difficult than anyone imagined. For a time, the odd family stayed put, doing small jobs to buy food and clothing, but nothing quite large enough to cause them to move.

 

Dutch didn’t know how much effort carrying for a baby would be, but the very first night he received his first clue. Delilah wasn’t one to sleep through the night when she was first born, and she made a lot of noise when she was upset.

 

Hosea and Dutch split the duties of caring for her pretty much evenly, choosing to stay in the same tent and set up Delilah’s bassinet next to them. Dutch insisted that he sleep on the outside, explaining if someone were to enter the tent, he would be alert since he was such a light sleeper.

 

For the first several nights after Delilah was born, Dutch barely slept a wink, choosing to keep a constant eye on her, and listening for any strange sounds outside the tent in case he needed to protect her from danger. This led to Dutch falling asleep in his porridge one morning after he had been up for three days. Arthur and John thought it was hilarious, Hosea become both irritated and worried that Dutch would compromise his health like that.

 

“Dutch, I understand you want to keep an eye on her, it’s noble and sweet, but you won’t do anyone any good if you’re too tired to eat breakfast, let alone shoot someone who might actually harm one of us. We need you sharp, you’re the leader.” Hosea tried to reason after Dutch took a very long nap (at Hosea’s insistence).

 

Dutch simply grumbled his semi agreement and went back to entertaining Delilah. Hosea put a gentle hand on his shoulder and kissed his temple. “Dutch I love you, I couldn’t bare it if anything happened to you. I just want you safe. I want everyone safe.”

 

Dutch sighed and covered his hand over Hosea’s, turning to look the older man in the eye. “I promise I will take better care of myself.” Hosea nodded and turned to leave, needing to do some chores around camp.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Arthur wasn’t the big brother Hosea and Dutch had hopped he would be, choosing to go fishing or hunting instead of being with Delilah. But John was a natural, he loved reading to her and playing with her, anything he could to spend more time with her.

 

“Ok, Delilah, no repeat after me. John. Can you say John?” John had been trying to get Delilah to speak for a week or so now, with no luck. Hosea tried to reason that she was simply too young for speech, but the stubborn ten year old wouldn’t hear it.

 

“Give it a rest would ya.” Arthur was sitting nearby reading a book Dutch had given him a few days ago. John simply gave him a dirty look and went back to entertaining the small girl. Arthur was starting to feel restless being stuck at the same location for several months, and in his hormonal teenage brain, he put all the brain squarely on Delilah and began to resent her for their new stationary lifestyle.

 

“Ya know Arthur, if you got to know her a little better I think you’d really like her.” John replied, still focusing on the baby.

 

“She’s four months old John, she isn’t exactly a fountain of philosophy and wisdom. What could I possibly learn about her.”

 

“Well,” John thought, “For starters you’d learn that she likes laying on Dutch’s chest for nap time. And she prefers bright colors like yellow and blue over darker colors like red and black. And she’s really curious! Boy, does she like to grab things and look at them, but Hosea says we gotta be careful that she doesn’t get into anything dangerous like the guns and stuff. And that she ain’t supposed to put things in her mouth.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes and went back to his book, but his curiosity was peeked, maybe this little disruption in their lives wasn’t all bad. If she was as curious as John said, maybe he could get her interested in reading and learning, like how Hosea did for him. Arthur decided to go into town the next opportunity he got and find something to read to her.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As it turned out, two grown men acting as a married couple caring for a newborn turned some heads, and the family soon learned that in order to stay under the radar they needed to go into town separately. Dutch didn’t like this idea very much, preferring everyone stick together, but Hosea reassured him that he and Arthur could handle themselves well enough and that if needed could defend John and Delilah. Oh how wrong Hosea was.

 

John and Arthur took Delilah into town to do some shopping and let her explore her environment. She was starting to walk and walking through the local town was the perfect opportunity to practice walking on different types of surfaces. Delilah had also begun to speak, so hearing different people talk and converse around her was good for her developing brain.

 

John was carrying little Delilah through a particularly muddy section, pointing out new sights and sounds to the child, when Arthur noticed there were being followed. He tried to brush it off as a coincidence, but his instincts told him otherwise.

 

“John,” Arthur whispered to his friend, “I think we’re being followed. No, no! Don’t look back, just act natural. Let’s go across the alley, see if we can loose them.”

 

The two boys and the baby quickly cut across the alley, only for it to be blocked by two new men. They tried to turn around and found that they were cornered. Panic rising, Arthur tried to push John and Delilah behind him for safety.

 

“Whatta want?!” Arthur tried to sound tough through his panic.

 

The men walked towards the group, withdrawing bats and guns. Delilah, sensing the trouble, started to cry. That’s when one of the attackers struck Arthur over the head before the boy could turn around to face him. Another man held a knife to Johns throat, grabbing the baby before punching John in the face and knocking him out cold.


	4. See The Fire In Your Eyes

When Arthur came to, he realized that they were in big trouble. “John! John! Wake up! Those guys took Delilah!!”

 

John slowly awoke and grabbed his head, not fully understanding the gravity of the situation in his daze. “What?”

 

“Those guys took Delilah!” Arthur screamed at John, dragging him to his feet and grabbing his hand, taking off at a sprint towards their horses. They needed to get back to Hosea and Dutch, and quick if they had any hope of getting Delilah back.

 

Thoughts whirled through Arthur’s mind. Who were those men? What did they want with Delilah? Would they hurt her? Or worse kill her? Would they ever see her again? And what would Dutch and Hosea do to him when they found out?

 

When the boys finally made it back to camp, Dutch and Hosea knew something was wrong immediately. For one Delilah was nowhere to be seen, and Arthur looked beyond frightened.

 

“Boys, where’s Delilah?” Dutch asked slowly.

 

“We were in town, and these guys started to follow us. We tried to cut through the alley but they cut us off and attacked us. They took her. Oh Dutch, I’m so sorry. I thought I could protect her. I really did, but they didn’t even give me a chance to draw my gun.” Arthur was on the verge of tears.

 

“It’s ok son, it’s not your fault.” Hosea reassured, but Dutch whipped around to face the older man, fire in his eyes.

 

“ _Not his fault_? Of course it’s his fault. He should have been sharper, quicker, we taught him at least that.” Dutch shot back.

 

“Dutch, getting angry at Arthur isn’t going to solve anything, he’s just a boy. And how was he to know someone would try to take her. Go easy on him ok?”

 

Dutch grumbled, turning to face a very frightened Arthur. “We’ll talk later boy.” Dutch threatened. Arthur merely nodded and gulped. “Now we have to find our daughter, and quick. Arthur, John, do you remember what the men looked like?”

 

“They was big, and mean looking.” John supplied. “And one of ‘em had a big ‘ol scar over his right eye. That eye looked kinda funny too, like cloudy and such.”

 

“Hapsburg.” Hosea deadpanned, Dutch turning to face him, his face pale. Both men knew Hapsburg was dangerous and was not above killing a baby to prove a point or get revenge. And the man had every right to want revenge on Dutch and Hosea, they only robbed him for everything his was worth and then some.

 

Dutch and Hosea turned to their tent to hatch a plan to get Delilah back, Hosea calling behind him for the boys to do their chores and _stay in camp_ , no matter what.

 

“Man, I really screwed up.” Arthur whispered to no one in particular, kicking the dirt.

 

“Naw, Dutch is just worried is all, he’ll forgive you once Delilah is back.” John tried to reassure, reaching up to put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder like he’d seen Dutch and Hosea do.

 

“And what if she doesn’t come back. What if this Hapensburger guy kills her? Or takes her so far that we’ll never find her? What then!?” Arthur angrily shot back, knocking John’s hand away.

 

“That won’t happen. Dutch and Hosea won’t let it happen.” John said optimistically.

 

“You have a lot to learn about the world kid.” Arthur grumbled turning to go do his chores, hands in his pockets and looking dejected.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

After several hours of planning, arguing, and deliberating, Hosea and Dutch came up with a plan to get Delilah back. They believed Hapsburg to be held up on the north side of the local town based on rumors within the town and the availability of land capable of supporting a large gang. Hosea felt uneasy about the only two of them storming the camp, requesting they bring Arthur along, but Dutch heard none of it, wanting to keep Arthur very far away from this in case he screwed it up.

 

“Dutch, Hapsburg has easily twenty men in his gang, all of them _expecting_ us to storm it, and you know it, you just want to punish Arthur. But we both know that if Hapsburg really wanted Delilah not even you could have stopped him, so stop being an ass and let the boy help!” Hosea practically screamed at the younger man, anger filling his eyes. Sometimes he didn’t understand Dutch.

 

Dutch thought over Hosea’s words, rolling them around in his mind. The man was right, Hapsburg was clever and ruthless, Arthur didn’t stand a chance, hell he himself probably wouldn’t have either. Hapsburg had a way of sneaking up on a feller that had a man always looking over their shoulder. “Fine. Alright, Arthur can come. He can cover us from above with your rifle with the scope.” Dutch finally conceded.

 

“Good. Now let’s get going.” Hosea exited the tent, calling to Arthur, “Arthur, grab my rifle with the scope, you’re helping us get your sister back. John you stay here and man the camp, if anyone comes near it, shot first, ask question later, you got it? Good. Now let’s move out.”

 

The three men mounted their horses, and rode out into the cover of darkness, leaving John carrying a shotgun that was almost as big as he was.

 

They arrived at Hapsburg’s camp within an hour and a half, hitching their horses and walking to the boundary. They could hear men drinking and partying, congratulating Hapsburg for finally getting revenge on the Van der Linde gang. Dutch could barely contain his rage, curling his mouth in disgust.

 

“Now Dutch, we need to keep a level head alright, you ain’t gonna help no one storming in there all piss and vinegar.” Hosea warned.

 

“Hosea, you’re talking to me like I’m John, I know how to handle myself.”

 

“Ok, just making sure, your face isn’t very reassuring. Now, Arthur, you see that tree over there, go and climb up to it to get a better angle. Dutch and I will go around back and go in from behind that tent over there. We ain’t gonna do a shoot out unless it comes to that. We gonna go in, grab Delilah and high-tail it outta there. We’ll deal with Hapsburg later, we just need to get her out safe for right now.” Hosea explained

 

Arthur nodded, sneaking off to go climb the large oak Hosea had pointed him to. Dutch and Hosea waited until Arthur had climbed up and gotten into position before moving out themselves.

 

Many of the men were piss drunk, barely able to stand, much less be aware of three intruders in their camp. Making Dutch and Hosea’s job that much easier. They quickly spotted Hapsburg’s personal tent. Betting Delilah was being held in there, the two men quickly but quietly made their way towards it.

 

Dutch listened closely at the back of the tent to see if anyone was in the tent. Concluding that the tent was empty, he slowly and carefully lifted the bottom flap, peaking his head between the flaps to see if Delilah was in fact in there, while Hosea kept watch.

 

Dutch easily spotted the sleeping babe on Hapsburg’s cot, turning to face Hosea to give him a smile and nod. The younger man gently folded back the flaps to enter the tent. He cringed when he smelled the booze and cigars that filled the air, ever more angry that Hapsburg had exposed his little girl to such toxins.

 

The younger man, gently lifted Delilah from the cot, praying that she wouldn’t awake, but to no avail. Luckily when she spotted her Daddy she cooned at him in delight. Dutch pressed a finger to his lips, gently telling the girl to be quiet. Dutch slipped out the way he had come, handing the girl off to her Papa.

 

Hosea was beyond relieved to finally hold and have his daughter back in his arms, Delilah smiling up at him, sharing in his joy. The two men slipped back down the hill they had come, motioning to Arthur to climb back down the tree.

 

For once, a Van der Linde gang mission went smoothly and according to plan. The Hapsburg men did not notice the child was missing until daybreak when they had sobered up enough to stand.

 

Several days later, the local town paper reported that a group of outlaws on the north side of town were slaughtered in their camp, presumably by a rival gang for money. The Van der Linde gang quickly packed up their things and left the town, riding west into the mountains to find safety and shelter from the law that was sure to investigate the mysterious death of the Hapsburg gang.

 

It was also decided amongst the small family that Delilah would not be allowed outside of camp until she was old enough to fight and defend herself. Of course the child of two outlaws with a strong thirst for adventure was not easy to keep in one spot for very long.


	5. I'll Love You Forever, I'll Like You For Always

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grab the tissues ya'll
> 
> Also for reference: Papa=Dutch; Daddy=Hosea

Delilah was just as troublesome in her childhood as her infancy, getting into things and causing a mess, learning that fire was bad and sticks shouldn’t be shoved into arms. But due to her kidnapping she wasn’t allowed outside of camp very often, and never without an adult around to keep an eye on her. Delilah didn’t like that one bit, and she made it known as often as she could.

 

“Dutch, where’s Delilah?” Hosea asked one afternoon, not seeing the little girl in camp.

 

“Ms. Grimshaw is looking after her.” Dutch responded not looking up from his book. Hosea looked around, trying to find the woman in question, spotting her on the edge of camp looking frazzled.

 

“Dutch, dear, I think our little hellion has escaped…again.” Hosea called over his shoulder, walking towards Ms. Grimshaw. Dutch slammed his book down, panic rising in his chest.

 

“Oh Hosea, Dutch, I’m so sorry. I was fixing her some lunch. I took my eye away for only a second and she was gone!”

 

“It’s quite alright Ms. Grimshaw. She does this often, she knows she shouldn’t but that doesn’t seem to stop her. Now which direction do you think she went?” Hosea was always much calmer than Dutch in these situations, who was currently frantically running his hands over his face and through his hair, looking around for Delilah.

 

Ms. Grimshaw pointed to her right, and the three set off in that direction, looking for any sign of the troublesome six year old girl. They quickly picked up her trail and found her whipping a stick around absentmindedly and whistling to herself.

 

“Delilah Matthews.” Hosea called out in a very stern tone. The little girl whipped around, eyes wide with fear. She knew that look and she knew _why_ her daddy had that look. She debated running, but thought better of it, her punishment would only be worse once they eventually caught up with her.

 

Dutch stepped forward, his panicked filled face turning to one of anger. He picked her up and held her on his hip. She looked down at his lapels and didn’t say a word. Dutch sighed and made her look up at him. “I’m not angry Bunny, I’m just disappointed. You know better than to run off. I want to keep you safe, and I can’t do that when you disappear into the woods.”

 

“I’m bored of camp. I never get to have any fun and go into town with you guys.” The little girl sniffled. Dutch wiped away a tear and replied, “I know, but you’re not yet old enough to go into town. In a few years I promise, but for right now you have to stay in camp where you’re safe, Bunny.” Delilah nodded and Dutch rejoined the group. They walked back to camp, where Delilah was handed off to Ms. Grimshaw again with the stern warning not to run off anymore.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later that night Dutch and Hosea lay in Dutch’s cot, cuddled up close, enjoying the peaceful night and time together.

 

“Hosea” Dutch broke the silence.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I’m worried about Delilah. She seems to be running off more and more lately. What if we don’t find her next time?”

 

Hosea turned to face Dutch, making out the younger man’s eyes and beauty mark in the moonlight. “I know, and I’ve been thinking the same thing, but I don’t know what we should do. It’s too dangerous bringing her into town, there’s too many things that could go wrong, too many enemies that could sneak up on her like last time.” Hosea sighed as he gently brushed Dutch’s cheek.

 

“Arthur has expressed a desire to teach her how to fish…” Dutch offered

 

“Hmm, do you trust him enough to handle her this time?” Hosea half joked.

 

“He’s older now, almost twenty. He’s a man now, with more knowledge and skill. I think he can handle anyone who comes near her. Plus, they’ll still be in the forrest, away from any people who want to do her harm.”

 

“I agree. Then it’s settled. Arthur will start taking her fishing. It’ll be a good bonding experience.” Hosea finished, and rolled back over to go to sleep. Dutch stayed awake, thinking more about Delilah and her future. He was afraid of what that future looked like. A child with a gang of outlaws could never end well.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Arthur.” Hosea called as the boy sipped his morning coffee by the fire. “Why don't you and Delilah go to the river so you can teach her how to fish. It’d be good for you two to bond a little more, you hardly ever do anything together.”

 

Arthur looked up at Hosea sideways, eyeing the man. “Does Dutch trust me enough to take care of her?” Arthur sarcastically replied.

 

“Yes of course he does! This was his idea after all!” Hosea enthusiastically tried to reassure. Arthur wasn’t buying it, but he agreed to take Delilah fishing anyways.

 

The little girl was beyond overjoyed to go fishing. She couldn’t wait to get out of camp for once and do something. She happily bounded down the path after Arthur, chattering away about all the fish that she could catch. She’d been reading a fishing book her papa had given her as a gift about all the wildlife in the region. Arthur found it endearing and only mildly annoying, he was glad she was reading and learning about the world, it would help her later in life.

 

The pair eventually made it down to the river bank, Arthur showing the girl how to attach her bait and cast the line. Delilah watched with rapt attention, her big blue eyes following his every movement, and trying her darnedest to do it exactly like him.

 

Arthur never really noticed how much the girl looked up to him, she wanted to be just like Arthur; big and tough, able to handle herself in dangerous situations, and being her papa's right hand man during jobs. And despite his rough exterior, Arthur had a soft spot for the girl, she looked so much like her mother, her hair a golden brown with soft curls, and freckles dotting every inch of her skin. But her eyes were all her fathers, a deep rich blue, just like the ocean. Arthur couldn’t help but feel a brotherly love for her, Bessie taking on a mothering role in his life when they met, and he himself feeling great loss when she died.

 

The two spent several hours down by the river catching fish. Arthur was surprised Delilah enjoyed the activity so much, but she was just happy for any excuse to get out of camp. The pair chatted about every and anything they could think of. What Hosea was teaching Delilah in school, what Arthur did for fun in town (he had to fudge that one a bit). Arthur even talked about his mom and his childhood a bit, the stuff that didn’t hurt too much to think about. Eventually they got to a topic Arthur was afraid Delilah would ask about.

 

“What was my momma like?” Delilah looked up at Arthur with complete innocence. He knew Dutch had a hard time talking about Bessie, and Hosea an even worse time so he assumed no one had really told her anything beyond the fact that she did in fact have one and that she was dead (Delilah understood the concept of death, growing up in a camp where food was regularly hunted for).

 

“Well,” Arthur started uncertainty. “She was very pretty, and you look just like her, ‘cept your eyes, those are your daddy’s. She was also very kind and forgiving. She never held anything against you and always forgave you for your mistakes before Dutch or Hosea did. She was kinda a mother to me too.” Arthur continued, looking down at the girl who was staring up at him intently. “She loved your daddy very much, and he loved her.”

 

“But daddy loves papa.” Delilah questioned

 

“Ya he does, but he also loved your momma. See Delilah,” Arthur knelt down to look her in the eyes. “People have all sorts of love to give, and they can give it to all sorts of people. Your daddy and papa love each other, and they also love you, but just in a different way. And I love you, but not in the way I would love, say my future wife. So you see, your daddy loved your momma, just not in the same way he loves your papa. I know that don’t make much sense right now, but you’ll understand when you’re a little older.” Arthur tried to explain, seeing the little girl nodding to herself, mulling over his explanation in her mind. He hoped she wouldn’t ask anymore questions. He didn't get what he wanted.

 

“How’d she die?”

 

Arthur sighed, feeling as though he was really not the right person to explain this to her, but knowing he was the only one that would. “Well, sometimes when babies are born, the momma has a hard time giving birth and they sometimes don’t make it. That doesn’t mean it was the baby’s fault, that’s just the way it is sometimes.”

 

“Did…did I kill her?” Delilah softly questioned.

 

“No, no, no. Of course not. Sometimes the momma just isn’t strong enough, but that don’t mean it’s the baby's fault. Don’t you ever believe for one second that you killed your momma, ok?” Arthur grabbed her shoulders to reassure her, not letting go until she looked him in the eye and nodded. Arthur nodded himself and told her to start packing up her stuff, it was time to get back to camp.

 

The journey back was much quieter then that morning, Arthur was afraid he had traumatized the girl telling her about Bessie. When the pair arrived back at camp with their haul of fish, Hosea also noticed the girl was quieter than normal, giving Arthur a questioning looking. The boy simply shrugged his shoulders and quickly retreated to his tent.

 

“Did you have fun with Arthur today sweetheart?” Hosea asked, picking her up and setting her on his hip. The girl merely nodded, still not saying a word. “Are you ok? You’re awfully quiet?”

 

“Are you and papa married?” Questioned the girl, throwing Hosea for a loop.

 

“Why-why do you ask that?” He replied nervously, fearing he would either have to lie to his daughter or tell her the overcomplicated truth.

 

“Arthur said that you loved my momma, but not in the same way as you love papa. But you and papa spend a lot of time together, and sleep in the same tent, and hold hands, and dance together. Just like the married couples in my books, and like Ms. Grimshaw told me when I asked what married people do.” The little girl explained, blue eyes staring into blue.

 

Hosea gulped and tried to think of a way to talk his way out of this situation, Delilah continuing to stare at him, waiting for an answer. “Well, sweetheart no, we’re not.”

 

“Why not? Do you not love papa like that? Because you act like you do?” The girl’s innocence made Hosea’s heart melt, but he knew she wouldn’t take a simple answer if he tried to give it, so he sat her down on a log next to the campfire.

 

“Papa and I love each other very much, and if we could we would get married like the couples in your books and like Ms. Grimshaw explained to you. But there’s people out there in the world who don’t want us to, and no matter how much I love your papa and no matter how much your papa loves me, we can’t change their minds, and so we can’t get married.”

 

“Well why do they get to say if you can get married?”

 

“Because they’re the ones that make the laws, and marriage is a thing to do with the law. But that doesn’t mean we don’t love each other any less, or that we’re ashamed of loving each other. It’s just safer and better if we don’t get married, and if we don’t tell a lot of people about our relationship because they might try to harm us. There’s just some really bad people out there.” Hosea tried to explain as gently as he could.

 

For the second time that day, the girl sat thinking about what she had just heard. After a while Delilah seemed to understand what Hosea was trying to explain, and replied, “Ok! I love you daddy!” She quickly hugged Hosea and ran off to tell Ms. Grimshaw all about her day at the river. Hosea was relieved that she seemed to understand his explanation, and accepted it so readily. If only more people could be that understanding.


	6. Gods and Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh Delilah, what are we gonna do with you?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas y'all! And for those of you who don't celebrate Christmas, Happy Tuesday, I hope it was a merry one!
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: Some very offensive words are used, I apologize for their use but I feel it was needed to add to the heinousness of the character.

Arthur enjoyed spending the day fishing with Delilah, and he decided she should learn how to do other things. So he taught her (as well as John) how to whittle a stick, shoot a bow and arrow, learn about which plants were poisonous and which were edible, and anything he could think of. Delilah always pounced on the opportunity to spend time with her older brothers, and the three could be seen around camp together nearly every day.

 

However, Arthur needed to go into town one day to get provisions and some more ammo for his guns, and Dutch had already made it very clear that Delilah was not allowed into town. So Arthur explained to Delilah that she couldn’t tag along that day, and she was not very happy about that. Delilah was never much of a crier, but she loved to pout and give the cold shoulder, not unlike a certain con man with the same blue eyes.

 

“I’m sorry Delilah, but you know your papa’s rules. I’ll be back soon, and then we can do something, ok?” Arthur pleaded, but the little girl folded her arms and kept her back turned. Arthur sighed, got up, and walked to his horse. He felt bad that Dutch kept such a tight leash on the girl, but he supposed it was best with the O’Driscolls running around.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Delilah had other plans however, and as soon as Arthur was far enough down the path, she bounded to her papa and daddy’s tent, grabbing her daddy’s knife. She waited a bit, playing on the edge of camp with another stick she had found, and when Uncle turned his back, she snuck quickly and quietly into the woods, just like Arthur had taught her during one of their hunting lessons.

 

Delilah made it all the way into town without being caught, following the path she had seen Arthur take. Once she breeched the town limits she could see cows and sheep munching along the grass, and more than once she had stoped so long that a horse nearly toppled her.

 

Delilah wandered the town, looking into shop windows and observing all the people going about their business. She had never seen so many people at once, all shouting and walking so fast she could hardly keep up. Delilah was starstruck by it all, not realizing that someone had walked up behind her and was trying to get her attention.

 

The man tapped Delilah’s shoulder, making the girl jump and whip around, her daddy’s knife at the ready with both hands. “Woah there little girl, I ain’t tryin’ hurt you. Just thought you might be a little lost, a big town like this ain’t no place for a little one like you.” The man was dressed smartly, with a dark vest with a pocket watch tucked inside, a light colored collared shirt and a tie.

 

“I ain’t lost. I meant to come down here.” Delilah said confidently, still wielding the knife.

 

“Alright, alright. Well are your momma and daddy around, I’m sure they wouldn’t want their little girl to be all alone.”

 

“No. I came alone. And I can handle myself alone too. Now, I’m gonna go. And don’t you be following me mister.” Delilah warned. She may be only seven, but the girl was smart with natural survival instincts.

 

“Now wait a minuet, I didn’t even catch your name. It’s a little rude to not even introduce yourself. I’ll start, my name is Colm, Colm O’Driscoll. Now, what’s yours?”

 

Delilah hesitated for a second. She had heard the men in camp talk about using different names on jobs, but she wasn’t sure if she should now, so she hesitantly replied, “Delilah Matthews.”

 

Colm’s mouth twisted into a sinister smile. He had heard of the Van Der Linde gang’s resident child, and taking her now would have been the ultimate leverage over their leader, knowing Dutch would do anything to keep her safe.

 

Delilah started to back away, unsure of what the man was thinking, but knowing it wasn’t good. She started to turn and make a run for it, when Colm quickly grabbed the back of her shirt, wrapping a hand around her mouth to stop her from screaming, and carried her back to his horse, the girl squirming and kicking the entire time.

 

Delilah’s foot eventually made contact with Colm’s crotch, causing the other man to double over and drop the girl. She took her opportunity and ran as fast as she could for the main street, hoping she could find Arthur, or at least a shop owner willing to help.

 

She turned to look behind her to see if the man had recovered and began to follow her when she ran head first into someone. She fell to the ground with a thump, but when she opened her eyes, she saw a very familiar pair of black boots and pants. Slowly raising her vision she made eye contact with her papa, who was glaring down at her with his hands on her hips. She gave him a weak smile and chuckled lightly, trying to ease the tension.

 

Colm tore out of the alley, searching for the girl, angry as all hell. Delilah quickly sprung to her feet and took cover behind her papa’s legs, cowering in fear.

 

“Colm.” Dutch bellowed, the other man tensing up when his eyes landed on Dutch, realizing the girl was with him. Colm calmly walked towards Dutch.

 

“Ya know Dutch, you should probably tell that girl’s mother to keep a closer eye on her. She could get into a lot of trouble on these streets.” Colm replied causally.

 

“Ya, because you’ll steal me!” Delilah screamed, her sudden surge of confidence diminished with one look from her papa. Dutch turned back to Colm and gave him a glare that could make hell hounds quiver.

 

“You. Did. What?” Dutch’s voice a low whisper, venom dripping with every word.

 

Colm shrugged and replied, “Dutch, you gotta admit, it was a gold mine. One of your members child just walking around town all alone. You would’ve done the same.”

 

“No. No I wouldn’t have. Children are off limits, even you know that. Besides, she’s _my_ child. And I can assure you, if you’ve hurt one hair on your head, it’ll be the last thing you do.” Dutch threatened, leaning in close, jamming a finger into Colm’s chest.

 

Colm leaned back, getting a better look at the girl. “She don’t look anything like you Dutch. Plus, she said her name was Matthews.” Then realization dawned on the man. “You and your _boyfriend_ have a kid together. Jesus, just when I thought you couldn’t get any more disgusting. Who did you con into being the mother? Or did you just kidnap her in the middle of the night to play a fucked up family or some shit?” Colm was chuckling softly by now, staring at the girl who began to shake in fear.

 

Dutch wrapped his arm behind him, pulling the girl in close, trying to protect her from Colm. “It don’t matter how we got her, which by the way wasn’t by conning or stealing, she’s mine and if you try to come near her again I can guarantee, _you_ wont be having kids.” Dutch snarled, turning to pick up the girl, but not before Colm could reply back.

 

“Oh trust me Van Der Linde, if I wanna hurt you, I won’t be taking just her, your little _faggot_ will be gone too.” Colm sneered, a sick smile spreading across his face. Dutch spun around, rage etched across his face, and decked Colm to the ground. He grabbed Delilah and ran towards his horse, knowing Colm would want a fire fight. Normally, Dutch van Der Linde would never be caught dead running from a fight, but with Delilah next to him, he couldn’t risk her catching a stray bullet.

 

Dutch and Delilah rode hard back to camp, trying to loose Colm, and Dutch trying to calm himself down before speaking with his daughter. They finally reached a clearing about a quarter a mile out from camp when Dutch pulled his horse to a stop. He sighed softy and shook his head. “Delilah Matthews, what were you _thinking_!? You know you’re not supposed to go into town! Much less alone! You could have been hurt, or worse, _killed_.”

 

Delilah shrunk a little, trying to escape her papa’s berating. “I’m tired of not being able to do anything!” She whined. “Even John gets to go into town, and he ain’t that good of a shot neither! I know how to shoot and hunt and stuff but I never get to do anything!” Tears started to roll down Delilah’s face, leaving streak marks where the dirt once was. She sniffled once and whipped her nose on her shirt sleeve.

 

Dutch stroked her hair and softly replied, “I know Bunny, I know. But your daddy and I have these rules for a reason. We want to keep you safe and people like Colm back there only want to hurt you. I don’t know what I would do if anything were to happen to you Bunny.” Dutch placed a gently kiss on the girls head and wrapped his arms around her, trying with all his might to protect her against everything that wanted to do her harm.

 

Delilah didn’t reply, and Dutch left it at that. He urged his horse into the walk, and the pair made their way back to camp.

 

“Papa?” Delilah finally questioned once they had exited the clearing.

 

“Yes?”

 

“What did that man mean when he said he wanted to hurt you? And what does faggot mean?” The innocence in her voice made Dutch’s heart constrict. He one day her bright innocent world would come crumbling down as she learned the horrors of this world, he just wished it wasn’t so soon.

 

“Well, that man was a bad guy, and bad guys only want to hurt other people, that’s just how they are. They don’t wanna do any good, only bad. We gotta be careful of those people and avoid them.” Dutch replied gently, hoping she would forget the second part of her question. She didn’t.

 

“Oh. And what did he mean when he said faggot?”

 

“Well that word is a _very_ naughty word and we should never ever use it. But when he said that word, he was referring to daddy.”

 

“That man wants to hurt daddy?!” Delilah was absolutely shocked. She only knew Hosea to be sweet, caring, kind, and gentle. She couldn’t believe anyone would want to hurt him.

 

“Well, kinda. That man wants to hurt me, but he knows that if he hurts you or papa, or both, that that’ll really hurt me.” The pair had reached the hitching post, and Dutch lifted Delilah up off the saddle and onto the ground before he slid off himself.

 

“Because he’s a bad man.” Delilah replied confidently, but she still couldn’t understand why someone would want to hurt her papa and daddy.

 

“Exactly.” Dutch finished, untacking his horse and picking up Delilah to place her on his shoulders, the little girl giggling as he jogged them into camp, completely forgetting for the moment about the incident in town.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later that night Dutch and Hosea lay snuggling together in their tent.

 

“I heard there was a little incident in town today.” Hosea whispered, causing Dutch to sigh softly. “So what happened exactly?” Hosea pressed when Dutch didn’t reply.

 

“Colm O’Driscoll happened. He tried to take Delilah, and when I showed up he started threatening you and her. Hosea, I just want to _protect_ her, but the world is so full of hate and greed that eventually she’ll loose that childlike wonder.”

 

“I know big cat, I know, but we can’t protect her from everything. Try as we might, she’s going to grow up and go out into the world. The best we can do is teach her about love and kindness and doing the right thing. And hope our teachings are strong enough to keep her from becoming embittered with the world.” Hosea kissed Dutch’s forehead and stroked his back, trying to sooth the rollercoaster whirling around in his mind.

 

Dutch just sighed, and snuggled in closer, wrapping his arms around Hosea, hoping at least he could keep him safe.


	7. Biological Doesn't Matter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Birthday's are about family, and families tend to be dysfunctional, the Van der Linde gang is no exception

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are very much welcome ;)

Typically birthday’s in the camp were ignored, many of the members not wanting the attention, and half the time they were all too busy to celebrate. But Delilah was the exception. Every year the gang would buy presents, make a cake, and celebrate her big day.

 

“Dutch! Dutch!” Miss Grimshaw called towards the man, grabbing his attention. “Delilah’s tenth birthday is coming up soon. Have you thought about what we should do this year?” Miss Grimshaw knew very well that Hosea was trying to convince Dutch to finally let Delilah in town now that she was in the double digits. It had become a sore spot with the younger man, Hosea and Dutch having many arguments over it, Hosea even choosing to sleep in another tent some nights.

 

Dutch eyed her suspiciously, not trusting her. “No.” Dutch replied slowly. “Do you have anything in mind, Miss Grimshaw?”

 

“Well, I was thinking we could all go into town—“

 

“NO!” Dutch cut her off and turned to leave, smoke coming out of his ears. He was very tired of everyone suggesting Delilah be allowed into town, she was still too young in his opinion. It was very dangerous for a young girl, much less the child of Hosea Matthews and Dutch van Der Linde.

 

Miss Grimshaw was left standing where Dutch had left her, the ghost of her sentence still on her lips. She turned to find Hosea staring at her and sipping his coffee, he gave a sad smile, shook his head, and turned back around to finish his coffee.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Dutch van Der Linde! We can’t keep her confined to this camp forever and you know it!” Hosea screamed at the younger man. They were once again arguing about Delilah, and the whole camp had scattered when Hosea stormed into their tent.

 

“She is too young!” Dutch retorted, anger rising.

 

“She is almost ten years old, John had been on his own just fine for two years by the time he was her age. She is more than capable of wielding a knife, shooting a gun, and if worse comes to worse she’s fast and can scream really very loud. But she won’t be alone neither, she’ll be with somebody. You just don’t want to relinquish control, but that’s not her fault so stop taking it out on her!” Hosea had encroached on Dutch’s personal space, glaring holes into his face.

 

“She is our daughter—“

 

“No, no she’s not. She’s _mine_ and I say she can go into town!” Hosea immediately regretted his words, seeing Dutch real backwards faster than a spooked deer. “Dutch, I didn’t mean that.” Hosea whispered, reaching for Dutch but he stepped back avoiding his hand.

 

“Yes you did. If that’s the way you want it than fine. Get out.” Dutch turned around, trying his hardest not to let his shoulders shake with his sobs before Hosea left. The older man stood still for several seconds, not knowing if he should stay or go. He eventually made his way quietly out of the tent. As the flap closed Hosea could hear Dutch sob, and he hated himself for the pain he just caused.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The entire mood of the camp had changed since Dutch and Hosea’s argument, Hosea moving most of his belongings out of Dutch’s tent on the younger man’s orders. They hadn’t spoken besides that conversation and Hosea feared he had ruined everything they had built together. He had tried to talk to Dutch, but the man always left before Hosea could even get close enough to great him, much less start a conversation.

 

Finally, Arthur became fed up with the sudden shift in the camps mood. “Dutch?” Arthur called into the other man’s tent.

 

“Come in.” Dutch replied, sitting on his cot reading.

 

“Look, I don’t know what’s happened between you and Hosea.” Arthur began, earning a death glare when he mentioned the older man’s name. “But Delilah’s birthday is tomorrow and I’m pretty sure she’d like her fathers to at least be on speaking terms.”

 

“I’m not her father.” Dutch deadpanned, getting up to put his book away, not looking at Arthur.

 

Arthur gave Dutch a confused look, “Whatta mean by that? ‘Course you’re her father, you’ve been her father for ten years.”

 

“Mr. Matthews has made it perfectly clear that she is _his_ daughter and I’m simply here for aesthetics.”

 

“Is that what this is about?! You know damn well that he didn’t mean that. We’re all just tired of you being so god damn protective of her that you won’t let her be an actual person and explore the world.” Arthur shot back, fed up with Dutch’s over-dramatic ass.

 

“Well, she can go where she likes. I’m not stopping her obviously. I’m tired of talking about this Arthur, please leave.” Dutch replied, all fight in his voice gone. He was heart-broken and it didn’t take a genius to figure that out.

 

Arthur left the tent still very frustrated, but ran into Delilah in his haste to leave. She looked up at him, her bright blue eyes barely holding back unshed tears. “Is Papa still made at me?” Her voice quivered when she spoke, and Arthur’s heart broke at the sound.

 

He knelt down to her level, amazed at how much she had grown in the last year. “He ain’t mad at you, he’s mad at Hosea, but that ain’t your fault.” Arthur tried to reassure.

 

“Then why won’t he talk to me? Or play with me? Or even acknowledge me anymore? Does he not love me no more?” Tears started to roll down her cheeks now and her shoulders shook with her sobs. Arthur’s rage at Dutch’s actions rising once again. None of this was Delilah’s fault, but she was caught in the middle and suffering for it, and all around her birthday.

 

“Delilah Matthews, listen to your older brother.” Arthur began, wiping the tears on her face with his thumb. “Dutch is being a pig-head, but that ain’t your fault. I’m gonna fix this ok?” Delilah nodded, sniffling back more tears. Arthur nodded back and gave her a big bear hug. He released her and looked her in the eyes, squeezing her shoulders once and sending her off to play with Mary-Beth and Tilly.

 

Arthur was going to fix this, if not for the good of the camp, then for the happiness of that little girl.

 

Arthur approached Miss Grimshaw, asking her to clear out the camp for a while, assuring her that the tension between Dutch and Hosea would be over by days end. She nodded and started to gather the other members.

 

Once Miss Grimshaw had cleared out the camp, Arthur went to find Hosea, spotting the man reading by a tree. Arthur stomped up to him, his noise alerting the older man, who raised his right eyebrow in question at the murderous look on the Arthur’s face.

 

“Arthur?” Hosea didn’t receive a reply, but instead was roughly yanked to his feet and dragged to Dutch’s tent, where he was forcefully shoved inside.

 

Dutch turned around from his gramophone, only to glare menacingly at Hosea, who was thoroughly confused at recent events. “What are you doing here?” Dutch whispered, glaring at the older man. Hosea simply shrugged and shook his head, turning to look at Arthur who had just entered.

 

“Dutch, Hosea didn’t mean what he said. You know that. I know that. He knows that. He’s tried to apologize, but you won't listen. Everyone is tired of this tension. It’s affecting the moral of the camp. But most importantly it’s affecting Delilah. She thinks you hate her, she’s in tears Dutch. Now I don’t care how long it takes or how you do it, but _fix this_ , for her.” Arthur finished, turning to leave the two men alone, keeping watch outside to make sure they didn’t try to sneak away or kill each other.

 

Dutch and Hosea watched Arthur leave, Dutch refusing to look at the older man. Hosea sighed and sat down on the crate by the door.

 

After several minuets of silence Hosea whispered, “I’m so sorry, he’s right, I didn’t mean it.”

 

“But you did. And you’re right. She ain’t mine, I don’t have any claim on her, and I needed to realize that sooner or later.” Dutch replied back, all anger evaporated, too tired to fight back.

 

Hosea stood and sat down next to Dutch on the cot, still rather far away, not pushing his luck. Dutch wasn’t looking at him, so Hosea place a tentative hand on his knee, grabbing his attention. “Do you remember what I said when we brought her home for the first time? I asked you to be her father. I want you to be her father. I _need_ you to be her father. _She_ needs you. I am so sorry, I was angry that you weren’t letting her into town. But I didn’t mean what I said. _Please_.” Hosea’s voice broke at the last word, tears of his own streaming down his face.

 

Dutch turned to look at Hosea. He knew deep down what Hosea was saying was true, but he was still so hurt. “Hosea, don’t you know that when I look at that girl I feel like I’m an outsider in her life? She looks so much like her mother that I can’t but be reminded that she just ain’t mine. It ain’t like John or Arthur were neither of them are ours, she’s your flesh and blood. And you shared that with Bessie. That is something I can never have with you. I love her, I really do. I would do anything for her, anything to keep her safe and happy, but no matter how much I want to, I can’t get over the simple fact that she ain’t mine.”

 

Hosea scooted closer to Dutch, reaching out a hand to stroke his face. Dutch leaned into the touch and closed his eyes. He had missed Hosea. “Dutch, darling, it don’t matter who’s her biological parents. Anyone can make a baby, but it takes courage to raise them right and proper. You’ve been with her her entire life. You were there for her first words, her first steps. You cried when she got hurt, and laughed when she did something funny. You _are_ her father. She calls you papa, and she loves you just as much as you love her. And I love you, I always will.” Hosea finished, having inched slowly closer to Dutch so that they were inches apart, Hosea’s breath ghosting over Dutch’s lips, both of them having closed their eyes.

 

“Hosea.” Dutch whispered. “I am sorry. I was hurt. I was pigheaded. If you’ll have me, I would like to go back to what we were.”

 

Hosea kissed him gently, answering Dutch. He could feel Dutch’s smile on his lips, his own smile spreading. They laughed quietly when they parted, resting their foreheads together and holding each other close.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dutch and Hosea spent the rest of the afternoon talking and cuddling, waiting for the rest of camp to get back. And when everyone had returned, Dutch went to go find Delilah.

 

He sat down on one of the logs around the fire place, placing her on one of his knees. She didn’t look him in the eye and he could tell she was nervous. He noticed she was wringing her hands, a habit she must have picked up from him.

 

“Bunny, can you look at me?” Dutch asked gently. Delilah raised her head and looked him in the eyes. He wanted to punch himself for causing the hurt he saw there. “Bunny, I ain’t mad at you. I love you very very much, and I’m sorry if I caused you to think otherwise. Daddy and I were fighting and you were unfortunately caught in the middle. But I promise it’ll never happen again, ok?” Dutch tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and she slowly nodded. He gave her a kiss on her forehead and pulled her close to give her a hug.

 

Delilah was hesitant at first, but quickly threw her arms around Dutch’s neck and whispered, “I love you papa.”

 

“I love you too Bunny.” Dutch whispered into her hair.

 

The next day the camp gathered around to celebrate Delilah’s tenth birthday. Almost everyone in camp either made or got her a present, Miss Grimshaw purchasing a cake in town for the special occasion. There was laughter and music from Dutch’s gramophone, and the entire camp enjoyed a day of relaxation and celebrating Delilah.

 

The party started to tapper off when the sun started to go down, but Dutch and Hosea called everyone around the fire pit for one last announcement.

 

“As many of you know, you especially Delilah, our little girl has been confined to camp for a very long time, in an attempt to keep her safe.” Hosea began, speaking to the gang.

 

“However, it has been decided, _mutually_ , with the supervision of an adult of course, that Delilah, you may now go into town at your leisure.” Dutch finished, Delilah’s face lighting up at his words.

 

She looked from her papa to her daddy, a huge smile gracing her very freckled face. She flung herself off of her log and practically tackled her parents in an attempt to give them a hug, Dutch and Hosea laughing while they almost toppled backwards off the log. “THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU!” Delilah chanted.

 

It truly was shaping up to be a great birthday.


	8. Dust Pneumonia Blues Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flu season is bad, but when you have asthma, it's even worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are always welcome and appreciated :))

The snow fell heavy, trapping the gang inside the abandoned farm they had found to stay during the winter. Arthur, John, and Hosea going out to hunting whenever Pearson complained about not having enough food, but they rarely found anything that’d last more than a few days. The cold weather had also brought a bought of the flu with it. Almost everyone had contracted the sickness, making its way through the camp.

 

Dutch feared that some of the at-risk members of the camp would not make it through this winter and flu season. He especially feared for Hosea and Delilah. The teen had the unfortunate fate of inheriting Hosea’s poor lungs, and the cold was not doing her any good. Dutch and Hosea had gotten her her own inhaler, and she was using practically daily, Hosea not far behind her.

 

Miss Grimshaw had taken to caring for the sick, and making sure Delilah didn’t stress herself too much, fearing another coughing fit that often led straight to her inhaler. Unfortunately the flu did not spare Delilah. She awoke one particularly cold morning feeling like a ton of bricks lay on her.

 

“Daddy? Papa? Daddy?” Delilah called out weakly, voice weak and raspy. Abigail happened to be walking by her room, hearing her call out.

 

“You alright sweetie?” Abigail peaked around the door, seeing the dry sweat and pale face of the girl, immediately going to her side concerned. Delilah gave a few weak coughs, her whole body shaking with the fever. Abigail grabbed a couple blankets from around the room and tightly tucked the girl into her cot, promising to be back soon with Miss Grimshaw.

 

Abigail found the older woman tending to a very sick Uncle and Javier. “Miss Grimshaw! Miss Grimshaw!” Abigail called out, gaining her attention. “Delilah’s real sick. She don’t look good. All pale and shaking.” Miss Grimshaw silently handed the wash cloth she had been using to dab Javier’s brow to Abigail and left to go look at the girl.

 

Miss Grimshaw collected blankets, water, and towels from the supply room; Another gang member turned patient from the flu. Dutch noticed the older woman moving about, walking up to see who had come down with the sickness now.

 

“Delilah, Dutch. Abigail noticed her this morning. Don’t worry, she’ll be fine, just needs a little more attention what with her cough.” But Dutch was Dutch, and he went into full panic mode. He knew Delilah would have a harder time fighting off the flu with compromised lungs, raising her chances of not making it through at all. Miss Grimshaw noticed his body language change and turned to place a hand on his chest. “Now Mr. Van der Linde. Fretting over her ain’t gonna do her any good. What she needs right now is peace and quiet. If you wanna sit with her that’s fine, but I won’t have you panicking in there. She’s young. She’s strong. She’ll make it through this, I’ll make sure of that.” With that Miss Grimshaw exited the cabin and went to Delilah’s room to treat her, Dutch quickly following behind.

 

He stood for a few seconds outside Delilah’s door to compose himself before he entered. Miss Grimshaw was right, if he showed fear it would only scare the girl and that was the last thing she needed. When he entered the room however, his heart dropped through his chest and he felt paralyzed. His little girl was white as a sheet, tucked under several blankets, shivering one second and coughing so hard she thrashed the next. He gulped and stepped forward, following Miss Grimshaw’s instructions. Within a few minutes the girl was settled, with strict instructions not to leave the room, if she needed anything she should call for someone. The older woman left Dutch and his daughter, going to check on the others and bring back warm soup for the girl. Dutch continued to dab her forehead and keep her company. Delilah quickly fell into a restless sleep, Dutch watching over her the entire time.

 

Arthur and Hosea arrived back from hunting some time later, bringing a few bucks with them. Hosea brought more soup, some blankets, and several books with him to Delilah’s room. He found Dutch passed out in his chair, gently snoring. The younger man had been watching over Delilah all day, not moving from his seat. Hosea gently shook Dutch awake, the younger man clearly startled by the disturbance. Hosea laughed at him quietly as he pulled a second chair forward to sit beside Dutch.

 

Dutch watch Hosea carefully, he had been hunting non-stop trying to provide enough food for the camp. Many of the younger men had taken up with the flu and were unable to go out, leaving Hosea and Arthur to pick up the workload. The younger of the two could probably handle it better, but it was clearly taking its toll on Hosea. He had large, dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than usual, and his cough had become more and more prevalent as the days went on. Today Dutch noticed a slight sniffle and hoarseness to the older mans voice.

 

Hosea noticed Dutch’s concern, waving him off. “I’m fine Dutch, just a tad tired.” Hosea immediately going into a coughing fit didn’t help his case. He slapped his chest a few times, desperate to clear his chest. He sat down next to Dutch with a heavy sigh, closing his eyes briefly.

 

“John is getting better, I think you should take a break from hunting. Arthur can handle it on his own for a few days while John gets well enough.” Dutch spoke quietly.

 

Hosea didn’t open his eyes, only waved his hand weakly. “I’m fine Dutch. Just a bit older so I need a little more rest, but I’m fine.” Dutch didn’t feel like arguing with him right then, not wanting to wake Delilah and stress her out, remembering what Miss Grimshaw had told him earlier.

 

The two sat together for several hours until Miss Grimshaw shooed them away, needing to take care of Delilah and ordering them to get some rest themselves. The were no good to anyone if they got sick too. Dutch reluctantly left Delilah’s side, being practically pushed out by Miss Grimshaw.

 

Dutch had been right, Hosea was pushing himself too hard. He woke himself and Dutch up early in the morning coughing up a lung, finding it incredibly hard to catch his breath. He doubled over the side of the bed, specks of blood dripping from his mouth with every cough. Dutch sat behind him, gently rubbing his back. When Hosea sat up again he attempted to catch his breath, trying not to cough again, fearing he’d go into another fit.

 

“Do you need me to get Miss Grimshaw?” Dutch asked quietly. Hosea nodded, leaning against the headboard, not opening his eyes. Dutch quickly got out of bed and put on his coat to go retrieve Miss Grimshaw.

 

Several minutes later Dutch and Miss Grimshaw returned carrying blankets and what medicine they had. “Now Mr. Matthews. I’ve got a bed set up in the other cabin with Uncle, John, and Javier. I don’t want you getting Dutch here sick too.” Hosea nodded and slowly began to rise from the bed.

 

Dutch looked from Miss Grimshaw to Hosea. “I want him to stay here. With me. He’ll be more comfortable.” Dutch interjected as Hosea began to retrieve his coat and scarf.

 

“No Dutch,” Hosea began, coughing a bit. “Miss Grimshaw is right. If we have any chance of beating this flu we have to quarantine the sick, so others don’t catch it. And you’re the last person we need catching this thing.” Hosea coughed a bit more, whipping blood from his lips, slightly concerned. Miss Grimshaw had noticed it as well and eyed him closely but he waved her off. She decided to watch him extra closely, alerting Arthur in case he needed to take Hosea into the nearest town.

 

Dutch tried to argue back, but Miss Grimshaw shut him down as she escorted Hosea out towards the other cabin. Dutch tried to follow them, but again Miss Grimshaw shooed him away, telling him to go back to bed, that he couldn’t do anything and he would only get in the way. Dutch did as he was told, but he didn’t like the way Hosea coughed the entire way to the other cabin.

 

It was several days later and Hosea had only gotten worse, the blood he was coughing up becoming more noticeable, making Dutch extremely nervous. To make matters worse, Delilah had begun to cough up blood as well. Miss Grimshaw moved Hosea into Delilah’s room, fearing they had a different strain of the flu and not wanting to infect the others.

 

“Mr. Van der Linde!” Miss Grimshaw hollered over the fierce wind, clutching her coat tighter around herself. “Mr. Van der Linde, I think we need to get a doctor to Hosea and Delilah, they aren’t getting any better, and there’s more blood as of late.”

 

“I agree. I’ve sent Arthur to prepare a wagon. He should be ready to head out soon. I think our best bet is to send them both into town instead of trying to get a doctor all the way up here. It’ll be hard but I have faith Arthur will get them there safe.” Dutch spoke as he led Miss Grimshaw and himself into the main cabin, where Arthur was gathering blankets and other supplies for the trip.

 

The young man turned towards the sudden burst of cold, shivering slightly before returning to his work. “I’m almost ready Dutch. Miss Grimshaw, can you get the two of them ready for me? It’s gonna be a cold and long drive so you should bundle them up tight.” Arthur put the last of the beans into his satchel and closed it, turning towards Dutch and Miss Grimshaw again. He noticed the brief look of panic in Dutch’s eyes, before he quickly hid it behind a mask once again. Arthur knew how much Hosea and Delilah meant to him, and he knew that if they didn’t make it, Dutch wasn’t going to last long either.

 

Arthur nodded once to both of them before heading back out to prepare the wagon. Miss Grimshaw sighed and shook her head, before following Arthur outside, calling behind her, “You get some rest Dutch, we need you sharp.”

 

Dutch slowly sat down onto one of the chairs surrounding the main table, resting his elbows on the tabletop and covering his face with his hands. His shoulders shook with sobs as he was faced with the very real possibility of loosing the two most important people in his life. He wasn’t sure if he could live without Hosea, and he definitely didn’t want to find out any time soon.

 

Miss Grimshaw prepared Hosea and Delilah for the trip as best she could, wrapping them in many blankets and packing towels and warm soup for them. Dutch instructed Arthur to push hard but not take any unnecessary risks, no one would benefit if Arthur got hurt along the way. With that, Dutch gave the young man a pat on the shoulder as he climbed up to the drivers seat, Dutch moving to the back to say goodbye to his family. Miss Grimshaw and Dutch watched as Arthur disappeared into the snowy landscape.

 

“They’ll be fine.” Miss Grimshaw tried to reassure, Dutch barely acknowledging her. She sighed and gave his arm a squeeze before retreating back inside, leaving Dutch to stare at the spot where Arthur and the wagon had disappeared a while longer.


	9. Dust Pneumonia Blues Pt. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second and concluding part to last chapter. The last bit was inspired by Arturia Morgan's idea on my last chapter, thanks so much for the inspiration ;)
> 
> Also this is one of the last chapters before the big finale which will take place over at *least* two chapters if not more.
> 
> Reviews are always appreciated and welcome (they make my heart flutter).

Arthur, Hosea, and Delilah traveled at a steady but rather slow pace through the snow for several days, stopping when the horses needed to rest. Arthur could tell Hosea was getting worse much faster than Delilah, his old and fragile body having a hard time fighting off this flu.

 

Arthur and the wagon eventually made it down the mountain and into the city below, finding the doctor quickly. “Hello? Hello, I need some help, my friends here are sick.” Arthur called into the office. A small woman trotted around the corner on short chubby legs, carrying a clipboard and pen with her.

 

“Yes? Hello, my name is Mildred, you say your friends need help? Where are they? What’s wrong?” The woman peaked around Arthur, looking for the patients before heading to her desk to grab some paperwork for Arthur to fill out.

 

Arthur escorted Hosea and Delilah inside, bundled in several layers of blankets, both coughing with specks of blood non-stop. The receptionist looked over the paperwork and escorted Hosea and Delilah into separate exam rooms, assuring each that the doctor would be in shortly. Hosea was resistant to leave Delilah alone, but Mildred assured him she would be ok, and Hosea was in no shape to fight her.

 

“Hello Mr. Matthews, my name is Doctor Piet, now what seems to be the problem?” A tall and lanky fellow strode into the room, looking over the paperwork Mildred handed him outside the door.

 

Hosea tried to speak, but coughed up blood instead. The doctor held up his hand silently telling Hosea he didn’t need to speak. The doctor listened to Hosea breathe, checked his ears and eyes, took his temperature, and looked at his throat and tongue, all the while making ‘hmm’ and ‘ah’s’ as he worked.

 

The doctor leaned back, setting his instruments down and writing a few notes on Hosea’s chart. “Well Mr. Matthews it appears you have a very bad case of pneumonia, one of the worse I’ve seen in a while. You’ll need to be admitted to the hospital here in town and given a large dose of antibiotics in order to recover. You’ll also need to get plenty of rest once you’re released and not do any strenuous work. If you had waited any longer, you wouldn’t have made it. And quite frankly I’m not entirely sure you’ll make it even now.” The doctor was serious but kind as he spoke, offering Hosea a tissue when the older man started to have another coughing fit.

 

Hosea managed to stop coughing long enough to ask about Delilah. “She has the same illness as you I’m afraid, but is not nearly as sick as you. I should be able to send her home today with antibiotics and strict instructions to stay warm and rest. You I’m afraid are far far worse.” Dr. Piet rose as he spoke, turning to exit the room and speak to Arthur, who was still in the waiting room. “You can come with me. Your friend will bring you to the hospital with these papers recommending you for admittance by me.” The doctor waited for Hosea to stand and handed him the necessary paperwork for the hospital.

 

Within an hour Arthur was escorting Hosea to the hospital in the city, promising to be back with Dutch and get a warm hotel room for Delilah. Hosea simply nodded, not able to speak without coughing. Once Hosea was checked into a room, Arthur took Delilah to one of the many hotels and purchased a room under the name Tacitus Kilgore, promising her too that he’d be back, making sure she took her medicine and had enough provisions before he left.

 

It took less time to get back up the mountain this time as the snow had stopped falling, providing Arthur a clearer line of sight. As soon as he entered camp Miss Grimshaw and Dutch ran to meet him, both desperate for news.

 

“Delilah is at one of the hotels. She needs to stay warm and rest. Hosea…Hosea is in hospital. He ain’t good. The doc is worried he might not make it Dutch.” Arthur bowed his head in sympathy and fear as Dutch slowly backed away, shaking his head.

 

“I-I need to see them Arthur.” Dutch’s voice was shaky and his eyes burned trying to hold back tears.

 

“‘Course, Miss. Grimshaw can you take care of the wagon while me and Dutch go get our horses?” Arthur hopped off the wagon and walked towards the barn where the horses were kept, trying to keep pace with Dutch, who looked to be on a warpath.

 

Before they left camp, Dutch left Miss Grimshaw in charge and grabbed some money for food and rooms once they made it back to the city.

 

For the second time that week, Arthur made his way back down the mountain, Dutch following close behind. Neither man spoke, Arthur too afraid to set Dutch off, and the older man too caught up in his own head, fear and panic swirling around his mind.

 

Once Dutch and Arthur made it into the city, nothing and no one could stop Dutch from finding Hosea. He tore through the hospital like a hurricane, demanding what room his partner was in, while Arthur tried to apologize to those in Dutch’s way, while simultaneously trying to calm Dutch down. Once Dutch had found Hosea’s room, he barged through his door, all frantic eyes and shaky hands.

 

Hosea was surprisingly still asleep after Dutch’s assault on his door. In the cold and dark mountains no one could tell how pale Hosea had gotten, but in the bright hospital room, he looked on the verge of death. He was pale and gaunt with large bags under his eyes. His breathing was ragged and raspy from the blood caught in his throat. Dutch nearly collapsed on the spot, only managing to make it to the edge of the bed before sinking to his knees and grasping Hosea’s hand. He closed his eyes and held the older mans hand to his forehead for several minuets.

 

“How long does he have to stay here?” Dutch finally whispered into the silence.

 

“Doc didn’t say, but I think it’ll be a while. He wasn’t in a good way when we got here. Doc still ain’t sure he’ll make it.” Dutch clutched Hosea’s hand closer and squeezed his eyes tighter when Arthur spoke. He didn’t like being surrounded by this civilization, but to have Hosea on the verge of death was even worse.

 

Dutch spent several minuets at Hosea’s side unmoving. He finally sighed and rose to his feet, asking Arthur to bring him to Delilah. Dutch was torn. He wanted to stay with Hosea, but he also needed to be with Delilah, making sure she was ok and safe. The next several weeks were going to be hard, juggling his time between Delilah and Hosea, trying to stay strong for not only them but for the rest of the gang.

 

The weeks dragged on into months, winter turning into spring bringing the thaw and allowing the gang to travel into the city easily to get supplies and visit their sick compadres. Delilah was able to re-join the gang once the weather had taken a turn for the better, enjoying being with her family again instead of stuck in a hotel room doing nothing. She was still under strict instructions from her papa not to do too much, Miss Grimshaw making sure of it.

 

The doctors constantly checked on Hosea, giving him medicine every couple of hours and taking his vitals. They told Dutch that Hosea was recovering, but his pneumonia was so progressed that it would take a while before he felt or even looked close to normal. Dutch didn’t appreciate that, he was an impatient man and wasn’t enjoying seeing his love so sick and helpless. Hosea wasn’t having fun either, being bed ridden and dependent on other people (most of which he didn’t even know) to help him with virtually every task. The only good thing that came of all of this was the alone time he was able to have with Dutch, the doctor and nurses not really concerned about Dutch spending so much time with Hosea.

 

The two men read together, Dutch sometimes reading to Hosea late at night when the pain in his lungs made it too hard to sleep, talked when Hosea had the strength, and enjoyed each others company in general. Hosea had been doing a lot thinking about his family since he’d been hospitalized. He knew his time on this earth was coming to an end and this recent scare had put into perspective how precious his time left really was.

 

“Dutch?” Hosea was still recovering his voice, having almost coughed up his vocal cords. Dutch lifted his head from his book, raising one eyebrow in an acknowledged question. “I was thinking, well, I think we should get married.” Dutch’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “It won’t be legal or nothing, but I’m tired of calling you my partner, I want you to be my husband, that is if you want to be mine.”

 

“Wh-what brought this on?” Dutch finally managed, his voice breaking slightly with the shock.

 

Hosea played with his blanket, looking at his lap, “Well ya know, me being sick has really made me realize how important you are to me. How much I love you and how much I want to make every second with you count.” Hosea finally looked up, seeing the tears welling in Dutch’s eyes. Dutch stood up and walked to Hosea from his seat across the room, grasping Hosea’s face in his hands, planting a firm kiss on the older mans lips, both men laughing slightly as they parted.

 

“Hosea Matthews, I would be honored to be your husband.” Dutch whispered against Hosea’s lips, neither opening their eyes, just savoring the moment together.


	10. A Thousand Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Weddings are a time for family, love, celebration, and a joining of two souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, I managed to write something! Real talk, sorry it's been so long, and I'm equally sorry that this chapter is so short, but like I promised the story shall continue and we shall see the conclusion to this little tale I've weaved.
> 
> Edit: Oh shoot! I forgot to credit Arturia Morgan with the idea for this chapter! Thanks hun!!

The past winter had been particularly hard. Between Hosea nearly dying and being stuck in old ranch for months, the camp needed something to look forward to, and a wedding (albeit not official or legal) was just what the doctor ordered.

 

Once the thaw drew near, Ms. Grimshaw and Pearson gathered what they could to make some semblance of a pie; Dutch insisting on a pie rather than a traditional cake. While the boys tried to sober Reverend Swanson up enough to stand and at least mumble the words, Abigail, Mary-Beth, and Karen worked on the decorations, although Abigail had been rather sick as of late so she was delegating more than anything. By the end of the week the log house of the ranch had been transformed in to a warm and cozy wedding chapel.

 

Arthur and Charles had managed to procure formal wear for Dutch and Hosea, scrounging up semi-decent clothes for the rest of the gang. Delilah had picked beautiful flowers that Charles had shown her, and practiced her walk and throwing the petals on the ground for days, wanting to get it just right for her parent’s big day. And unbeknownst to Dutch (and really everyone else), Hosea had somehow managed to purchase gold wedding bands with the others initials inscribed on the inside. The wedding day was shaping up to be a real spectacle for the camp.

 

On a sunny and bright Sunday, the grass glimmering from the morning dew and the tree tops dripping the remaining snow from winter, the gang gathered in the log house to celebrate Hosea and Dutch. Javier strummed his guitar gently to the wedding march as Dutch entered from the main doors. The entire gang had aligned themselves in rows, turning to watch as Dutch strode confidently towards Hosea, both men beaming with pride. Ms. Grimshaw gently dabbed her eyes as John held a silently weeping Abigail.

 

“It’s just so beautiful”

 

Reverend Swanson had actually managed to look bright and alert, although a bit twitchy and crazy eyed. Dutch and Hosea ignored him for the most part, choosing to gaze lovingly into each others eyes. Delilah stood off to the side, proud that she didn’t screw up her part and happy that the three of them would be a proper family, just like in her books.

 

Swanson cleared his throat, signaling the beginning of the ceremony, “We are gathered here today to join these two in the bonds of Holy matrimony. If anyone here has any reason as to why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace,” Dutch turned his head to glower at the gang, daring someone to speak up, while Hosea held in a laugh at Dutch’s behavior. When no one spoke up, the Reverend continued, “Now, do you Dutch Van der Linde take this man, Hosea Matthews, to be your not really lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

 

“Of course I do.”

 

“And do you, Hosea Matthews, take this man, Dutch Van der Linde, to be your not really lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for richer or for poorer, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, till death do you part?”

 

“I do.”

 

“May I have the rings?” Arthur leaning forward to hand the rings to the two men in front of him. “Now Dutch, repeat after me as you slide the ring on Hosea’s finger: With this ring, I thee wed.”

 

“With this ring I thee wed.” A slight quiver in the younger man’s voice as he spoke.

 

“Hosea, repeat after me: With this ring I thee wed.”

 

“With this ring I thee wed.”

 

“Now, by the powers vested in me, I pronounce you husband and husband, you may now seal your marriage with a kiss.” Swanson even had a twinge of a smile ghosting his lips as he finished.

 

Dutch wrapped his arms around Hosea’s neck, as Hosea pulled him close by the hips, sharing a brief but meaningful kiss, resting their foreheads against the other’s for a moment before they turned to face their family, beaming with pride. Everyone clapped and cheered, John throwing rice at the two men. Hosea reached for Delilah’s hand, walking down the aisle with his daughter on one side, and his husband on the other; the happiest man in the world.

 

The family of three walked out into the bright sunlight, traveling towards the small area the women had designated for the reception, hanging lanterns and vines they had found in the forrest as decorations. The rest of the gang followed suit and they partied and celebrated well into the night.

 

As the night moved on, people slowly started to head for their bunks; tired, happy, full, and slightly drunk from the days events. Dutch and Hosea had sent Delilah off to bed after she had started to doze off underneath a tree, Abigail joining her after becoming rather sick once again. Hosea made a note to check up on the poor girl the next day. Arthur strode up to his two father figures, clapping them both on the back, beaming with joy, and wishing them a good night; the last of the gang to head to bed.

 

Hosea grabbed Dutch’s hand as he stared up at the stars, Dutch preferring to marvel at the man beside him. He was more than content, more than happy; he was lucky. Dutch never imagined he’d find someone like Hosea; someone willing to love him despite all his faults; someone who wanted to be near him and stick by his side through thick and thin; someone he could trust explicitly and love unendingly. Dutch felt himself start to choke up with the emotions bubbling inside him, turning to look at the stars with Hosea.

 

“You know, I never thought we’d end up here. Did you?”

 

“Under the stars or in each others arms, because I hate to break it to you old man, we’ve been in both before.” A smile gracing Dutch’s words as Hosea smacked him lightly on the arm before rejoining their hands. “No, no I didn’t. We’ve been through a lot you and I, and there were some times that I didn’t think we’d make it through, but we did. And I love you more now than I ever have, and I’ll continue to love you more and more as time goes on.” Dutch squeezed Hosea’s hand three times as he finished.

 

“Come on Big Cat, let’s get inside, we’ve got a honeymoon to start.” Hosea winked at Dutch as he led the younger man into their private cabin, Dutch beaming for a whole different reason.


	11. Nothing Breaks Like A Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go laddies. I suggest grabbing some tissues for these last chapters. As always, reviews are welcome and appreciated. Enjoy.

The years moved on without much upset, Abigail had given birth to a beautiful baby boy some years ago, the gang had picked up new people, and everything seemed to be going right with the world. Dutch had actually gotten a lead that would pay off big, but first they needed to find a way in as the money and gold was kept deep behind guns and security.

 

Delilah had just turned 17 and had become an excellent shot thanks to her older brother Arthur, she knew that she would be a valuable asset in this most recent job, however Dutch had other ideas.

 

“No. I said no. It’s too dangerous, there’s too many guns, you could get hurt. I don’t have a problem with you joining in on a job, just not _this_ job. Okay?” Dutch sighed as he looked over his notes and maps as Delilah huffed and folded her arms.

 

“You know I’m a good shot. Hell, I’m almost as good as Arthur. I don’t have to be anywhere near the actual site, just play the sniper from a distance.”

 

“No. End of discussion, and if you continue to test me Delilah Matthews, it will not end well for you.” Dutch turned towards the girl, blue eyes full of rage and young gusto, much like he was when he was her age, and glowered at her, using his height to tower over her. She unfolded her arms, rage never leaving her eyes, and glared back. She wasn’t afraid of Dutch like most people; she knew his threats towards her were unfounded, that he would never do anything to her. But she was also smart enough to know that she would not get anywhere with him now. So she sighed and walked out.

 

Dutch swiped a hand over his face and felt his shoulders slump as his tent flap closed behind his daughter. Soon after Hosea entered with a smirk on his face, he knew that Delilah was just as stubborn and pig-headed as her papa and that she’d be back.

 

“She’s trying to get in on the job again, I see.” A slight chuckle in the older man’s voice as he sat down on the cot.

 

“She’s going to be the death of me I swear. She’s gonna make me go gray prematurely.”

 

Hosea laughed, “Like you did to me?”

 

“Shut up old man.”

 

“What are you afraid of.” The mood in the tent becoming somber with Hosea’s question.

 

“I’m afraid she’ll get hurt Hosea. She’s young, she has so much to live for, she doesn’t need to be a trained killer. Not yet. I just want her to stay young and innocent.” Dutch moved from his desk to sit next to Hosea, resting his head on the older man’s shoulder as Hosea wrapped his arms around him and stroked his hair.

 

“I know. I’m afraid too. I don’t want her going either. It’s too risky, but we can’t keep her from going on jobs forever. Maybe not this one but you know she’ll keep bugging us until we relent”

 

Dutch didn’t speak for a long time, enjoying the comfort Hosea’s hold. Finally he sighed and nodded, silently agreeing to let Delilah go on jobs, after this one. Hosea moved them both so they were laying down, Dutch resting his head on Hosea’s chest his arms wrapping around his torso. Hosea gripped Dutch’s shoulders and kissed his hair before settling in.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Delilah was fuming with rage, she knew her papa was never going to let her go on this job, and her daddy wasn’t going to be much help either. She needed to find a different way to sneak onto this gig, and her solution had just gotten off his horse.

 

Delilah strode up to Micah, a person she found revolting from the moment she met him. She would never understand why her papa brought him in, he was untrustworthy, slimy, and plain gross. But right now he was her only choice. “Micah!” Delilah used her girliest and sweetest voice to feign ignorance and innocence. The man turned towards her, a strange look in his eye that always made Delilah’s skin crawl, but she curbed her instinct to shiver.

 

“Hey girly, what do you want.” Micah leaned against the hitching post, a smile gracing his lips.

 

“I need your help. My papa and daddy won’t let me in on this job in Tumbleweed, but I know you have…ways of getting around them.” Micah’s smile grew at each word, making Delilah backup half a step and her facade quiver for a second.

 

“And if I could get you in, what would be in it for me?” Micah leaned towards Delilah, far more in her personal space than she would have liked. She quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching before making eye contact with Micah again.

 

“What do you want?” She was hesitant and scared of the answer. Her fear growing as Micah looked her up and down. She knew she wasn’t hard on the eyes, a face full of freckles, brown hair that curled into ringlets, sharp angels and blue eyes much like her daddy. When Micah’s eyes settled on her chest she took several steps back, shaking her head. “Oh no, no way. I’ll find another way before I _let_ that happen.” She spat back, turning to walk away. But Micah grabbed her hand before she could. She knew better than to scream, but the terror running through her body made her want to shout and cry all at the same time.

 

“And how do you expect to do that? I’m the only one smart enough to get around your parents. And the only one who doesn’t really care if you’re on this job or not, but everyone else? Nah, they’d never help you. Mostly because they fear Dutch, but not me.” Delilah slowly turned to face him, eyes slowly rising to meet his. She knew he was her only chance to prove herself, and she could easily back out if she needed, especially if she told her parents what he wanted. So she nodded, and he released her arm, leaning against the hitching post again. “Alrighty, I’ll let you know the game plan in a few days.” Micah’s strange smile re-appeared and Delilah quickly nodded and walked away before anything more happened, her head hung low.

As Delilah turned to leave, she ran head first into John, who had come out from behind a tree.

 

“What was that all about?” John accused.

 

“Nothing. It’s none of your business.” Delilah side-stepped around him, but John quickly reached out and grabbed her arm. Unlike Micah, Delilah yanked her arm away from John, turning quickly to meet his eyes, seething with anger. “Leave me alone”

 

“I’m just trying to help. I don’t want you to get hurt.” John’s eyes softened with his plea.

 

“I don’t need help, especially from _you_.”

 

“Now what’s that supposed to mean.”

 

“I don’t know, why don’t you go ask a real man.” Delilah turned once again, but John’s next words stopped her in her tracks.

 

“What the hell happened with us? We used to be so close, now you’re treating me like I killed Dutch or something.”

 

“You wanna know what happened?” Delilah faced John again, standing on her toes to get even with him, her finger pointing into his face. “You left. You left Abigail. You left Jack. You left _us_. You took the cowards way out, and left when they needed you the most. You ain’t a real man, you’re a coward.” Delilah stormed away before John could counter, fists clenched tight.

 

John was left stunned, unable to follow after her, but knowing he had to do something. She was right, and it hurt, but she was right. But right now that didn’t matter, all that mattered was whatever Micah had planned needed to be stopped. So John went to go find the one person he knew Delilah would listen to.

 

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John didn’t get a chance to speak with Arthur in private, or even Dutch or Hosea. The next few days consisted of a whirlwind of stakeouts and preparation for the big job. When the day finally came, John was getting desperate. He needed to warn somebody, anybody.

 

“Arthur! Arthur I need to talk to you.” John jogged up to the man in question, who was packing ammo and guns into his saddle bag.

 

“Not now Marston, we’ve got a job to do.”

 

“Arthur it’s urgent, I think Delilah is gonna do something stupid today.” That finally got Arthur’s attention, and he turned slowly to look at John.

 

“What’d you mean?” His words slow and deliberate.

 

“I don’t know, but a few days ago she was striking up some kind of deal with Micah and I have a bad feeling she’s getting his help to get in on this job.”

 

“That’s impossible. She and Ms. Grimshaw went into town this morning for supplies, in the opposite direction. She ain’t gonna be anywhere near the job.” Arthur waved his arm and dismissed John, turning to finish packing. John thought for a moment, but knew in his gut that Delilah was up to no good.

 

“Arthur, you and I both know that girl is clever and wants in on this job. She’ll find a way. We know she will.”

 

Arthur didn’t face John this time, “Marston you’re being paranoid. You think Ms. Grimshaw doesn’t know that? She’ll be keeping an extra close on her today to make sure she doesn’t sneak off.” Arthur unhitched his horse and climbed up to ride away. “Go get your horse Marston, Dutch wants us down there by noon.” And with that Arthur left the younger man standing by the hitching post, before he went and grabbed his horse to follow Arthur down. Maybe he was being paranoid, maybe Ms. Grimshaw would be able to keep Delilah under control for today.

 

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Delilah had managed to give Ms. Grimshaw the slip when she insisted she try on the new dress in the storefront window. While Ms. Grimshaw thought she was changing, Delilah managed to sneak out the back door and get to a horse nearby. She was able to ride out of town fast and hard before Ms. Grimshaw knew she had even left.

 

Delilah met Micah on the outskirts of the building, grabbing the rifle with the scope that Micah offered before he went to go meet the rest of the gang down below. For the next several minuets Delilah laid on the ground, perched behind a bolder, keeping an eye on the gang below through her scope. She watched as the gang busted down the door and heard the unmistakable sounds of gunfire. She noticed a figure coming from the left side of the property swing around and enter behind the gang, knowing he was going to try to corner the people inside. She easily picked him off before he could, a smile spreading across her face at a job well down.

 

Delilah decided to move closer to the building to get a better angle of the doorway incase anyone else tried to sneak in, or out. She carefully climbed down the step cliff, making her away across damp and slippery rocks from the rain the night before. Delilah took a wrong step and lost her footing on a particularly loose and damp rock, crashing down the rest of the cliff, banging and scrapping up every part of her body before she came to a halt at the base. She had lost her rifle in the fall and couldn’t see where it handed landed. She slowly got up, assessing herself to see if she had any broken bones or particularly bad cuts. Once she was satisfied that she wasn’t too badly hurt, she looked around on the cliff to find her rifle. She noticed it a few feet above her head, dangling on a rock. As Delilah made her way up to the rifle, she felt the unmistakable pressure of a gun barrel pressed against her back. She slowly lifted her arms in surrender and turned to face her attacker.

 

The man was young, not much older than she was, but from the look in his eyes Delilah knew she wasn’t the first person he had pointed a gun at. He was missing several teeth and reeked of stale alcohol and terrible body odor.

 

“Looky what I got here. A pretty little lady trying to play outlaw.” He sneered at her, grin growing wide. He waved his gun behind him, signaling for her to start walking. She walked in front of him, hands held high with his gun pressed against her back. She knew she had to do something, and soon, otherwise she wasn’t going to make it out of this alive. Then she noticed a figure just out her line of sight to her right. She turned her head slightly and noticed it was Micah. Her captor noticed too and grabbed her arm to twist it behind her while pointing his gun at her head.

 

“You there! Come on out or she dies right now” The man shouted in Micah’s direction. Micah slowly walked out from the shadows, gun held tight in his hand pointing at Delilah’s captor. “Put the gun down!” Micah didn’t listen. “I said put it down! Or she dies!”

 

“Let her. I don’t care.” Micah was far too nonchalant about the whole situation, never lowering his gun.

 

The man contemplated Micah’s words before shoving Delilah from him, still pointing his gun at her. She stumbled a few steps before turning to face the man. Fear etched into every feature on her face, her hands shaking as she tried to regain her balance. She knew it was over as soon as she made eye contact with her attacker.

 

The entire world slowed almost to a stop as she watched the man pull the trigger, the bullet leaving its chamber and hurtling towards her. She turned her head towards Micah, watching transfixed as he lowered his gun, not even attempting to fight back or protect her. She gazed down at her torso as she felt the bullet rip through her skin and lodge itself into her lung. She collapsed onto the ground, clutching the hole in her body, trying desperately to stop the bleeding, knowing it was no use. She felt her eyes close against her will as the world stoped turning and her mind went blank. She was dead.

 

The man who had shot her lowered his gun, and Micah quickly drew his up to shoot him in the head; a perfect kill shot. Micah holstered his gun and stared at Delilah’s body for a few seconds, devising a plan on how to absolve himself of any blame. He walked up to the body, blood still flowing out of her, and placed both hands on the wound, making sure to get blood all over his hands and shirt, he even swiped his blood soaked hands across his face. He then stood up and went to go find Dutch and the others.

 

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“Dutch! Dutch!” Micah screamed from the distance, running full sprint up to the gang. Dutch and the others turned to face him, concern growing as he noticed the blood on the other man. “Dutch, it’s Delilah, she’s…she’s been shot. I couldn’t save her. There was nothing I could do. I’m so sorry.” Dutch took off running from the direction Micah had come, not allowing Micah to finish speaking, the rest of the gang following in Dutch’s trail.

 

Dutch skidded to a halt ten feet from Delilah’s body, dropping his guns and the bag of money. His breathing was heavy, eyes wide and whole body shaking. He slowly approached, collapsing to the ground once he had reached her, a scream that could curdle blood and shatter bone emanated from within him as he pulled the dead and bloody body of his daughter to him. He continued to scream, tears rolling down his face as he rocked her back and forth. Hosea stood a few feet away, his face blank, eyes wide, and stock still, unable and unwilling to move as the others gathered around. He didn’t make a sound or move a muscle until her body had been taken away some time later.

 

“Dutch, Hosea, I-I’m so sorry. I noticed a struggle and came over to find Delilah and that man fighting. Before I could do anything he shot her. I tried to shoot him before he shot her, but I was too late. I’m so sorry” Micah’s voice quivered with fake sorrow, but neither Dutch nor Hosea heard a word of it, too consumed with grief and shock.

 

Arthur turned to John, silently apologizing for not believing him as his own tears washed down his face. He then turned to look at Micah, her blood was all over his hands and shirt, but he didn’t look upset, or even fazed by the dead body ten feet from him. Arthur had a bad feeling, but didn’t want to actually believe Micah allowed Delilah to die, or killed her himself. But John knew. He knew Micah did something, or a lack of something, and Delilah paid the price, but he couldn’t prove a word of it.

 

Dutch stayed clutching his daughters dead body for some time. Finally Arthur put a hand on his shoulder, gaining the older mans attention. He silently told Dutch it was time, and Dutch nodded as he rose, gently placing Delilah back on the ground. Arthur carefully picked up the body and placed her on the back of his horse, riding back to camp. Dutch watched him go, before turning desperately to Hosea, asking him what to do next. Hosea made eye contact but didn’t say a word, unsure of what to do or say, not trusting his voice. He opened his arms and Dutch collapsed into him, sobbing on his shoulder, Hosea stroking his hair and holding back his own tears. Their little girl was dead.


	12. Bad Liar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've come to the conclusion of our little tale about a firecracker girl who stole the hearts of Dutch and Hosea, and everyone in the camp. Hope you enjoyed the ride (and I apologize for the pain I caused).

The funeral was small, situated on the edge of a cliff overlooking the river below. Delilah loved the water, she would swim and play in the cool liquid all day. A few people spoke, expressing their fondness and love for Delilah. Dutch and Hosea were not among those who spoke, neither trusting their voice for fear that they would start weeping and never stop.

 

Ms. Grimshaw made sure everyone wore their best clothes and washed up before the ceremony. Delilah deserved the respect of a well dressed crowd. The sun had finally broken through the storm clouds that had formed the day Delilah had died and had not let up since. Jack had stopped asking Abigail where Delilah had gone, understanding that she was never coming back this time. He too was upset and somber as the camp gathered around, clutching onto his mothers side for dear life.

 

Hosea dressed in his dark blue three-piece suit with a matching bowtie and a crisp white shirt. He may have looked his best, but the man felt like curling into a ball and never moving on the inside. And one look into his eyes showed the pain he was hiding and the torture he was going through.

 

Arthur had to practically drag Dutch out of his tent and get him dressed. The man had not left the confines of his tent in a week, preferring to be in silence; the camp respecting his wishes, especially after he had nearly shot Charles when he attempted to get the man to go hunting with him. The women had taken turns delivering food to him in a useless attempt to get the man to eat. Everyone knew that the only person who could really help Dutch was the one person Dutch didn’t want to see: Hosea.

 

Hosea watched as Arthur exited Dutch’s tent, with the other man following behind a few seconds later. Hosea felt his breath catch and his heart skip. He hadn’t really looked at Dutch since their little girl had died, and looking at him now Hosea felt all the love and longing that he had desperately craved for in the last week. He tried to catch the younger man’s eyes, but Dutch deliberately did not look in his direction. Hosea sighed and slowly walked towards the grave site a few miles from camp.

 

Hosea longed to hold Dutch. He longed to cry into his shoulder and grieve together. Hosea needed to touch Dutch, hold his hand and stroke his hair. He needed the comfort and security that only Dutch could bring. He needed Dutch more than ever but Dutch refused to acknowledge him, kicking him out of their tent and virtually ending their relationship. It hurt Hosea to be rejected by Dutch like that, but he understood that Dutch was grieving in his own way and no matter how hard he tried, Dutch was not going to let him in again; he had re-built his walls.

 

After Reverend Swanson finished the ceremony the gang slowly broke up to do their chores for the day, go hunting, and just generally escape the gloom that consumed the camp. Arthur tried to say something to Dutch, but couldn’t seem to find the words. He turned to Hosea, feeling the same loss as he gazed into the older mans broken and dead eyes. Instead the boy bowed his head and walked away with his hands in his pockets, Hosea watching him go. Hosea turned to Dutch, opening his mouth to speak but Dutch walked away from him, traveling down the mountain towards the lake below, a single tear falling down his cheek.

 

Dutch walked for a long time, trying to forget the death of his little girl. Trying for the life of him to forget everything that had happened in the past 17 years. A part of him wished he had never tried to steal from the handsome blonde at the bar all those years ago. But a larger part knew that he could never live without Hosea; knew that had Hosea not reeled him in time after time, saved his hide more times than he could count, that he’d be long dead. But also, Dutch knew his soul needed Hosea from the moment he laid eyes on Hosea’s young face, all sharp angles and blue eyes. Dutch walked for a long time, not really thinking of anything and thinking of everything all at the same time

 

Hosea stood at his daughters grave for a long time. Tears flowed freely now as he collapsed onto the ground, hugging himself in an attempt to make the pain stop. He felt dead inside; first his only child died, and now Dutch had left him and the only conclusion Hosea could find was that Dutch blamed him for Delilah’s death. And part of him blamed himself too. He blamed himself for not keeping a closer eye on her. He blamed himself for not staying behind himself to keep an eye on her. He blamed himself for underestimating her cleverness and stubbornness about that job. But mostly, he blamed himself for letting her grow up in this life. He knew he should have given her up for adoption, she would have been safe, she would have grown up in a real house, with a mom and a dad, with a permanent town and friends, she would be alive.

 

Over the next several months Hosea slowly moved out of the tent he shared with Dutch, bunking with Bill and Javier instead. He tried to reach out to Dutch; attempting small talk, sharing books, asking to go fishing, anything to connect with the man he loved. But Dutch pushed him farther away each time so Hosea gave up trying, his heart breaking under the pain.

 

Dutch wanted to be with Hosea again, he really did, but he couldn’t look into those blue eyes and see Delilah. He couldn’t bare to see all his failures, the one promise he never wanted to break. After a while he introduced Molly O’Shea to the gang, effectively ending his relationship with Hosea for good. She was lively and beautiful and Hosea could see why he chose her; she was everything Hosea was not, allowing Dutch to escape his demons when he was with her. What Hosea didn’t see was how much Dutch hated himself for being with Molly, how much he hated himself for not being able to get past the death of Delilah to be with Hosea, and how much he hated the pain he knew Hosea felt.

 

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Arthur may not have had the wit and wisdom of Hosea, but he could tell Micah was hiding something. He didn’t show nearly enough remorse or even shock at the situation. Sure the man didn’t like Delilah, he believed she was too big for her breeches, and didn’t know her place, but he should have been more remorseful at her death, he should have at least respected the depressed environment of the camp. Instead Micah acted as though nothing had happened, and expressed as much when Abigail didn’t take his comment about her gloomy mood well. Arthur nearly slapped him, but Abigail beat him to it.

 

“What’s your problem?” Arthur stormed up to Micah, furry in his eyes.

 

“What? The girl died months ago, we gotta move on. It happens. People die.” Arthur nearly decked Micah right then, a red flush painting his cheeks with rage.

 

“That _girl_ was Dutch and Hosea’s daughter. She was my little sister. She was special. She was the heart and soul of this camp. Have a little god damn _respect_! And you better not let Dutch hear you talk about her like that, or it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” Arthur shoved his finger in Micah’s face before storming off, mumbling under his breath his distain for the other man.

 

Micah snorted as the other man left, noticing Hosea grab the remainder of his things from Dutch’s tent. His plan was coming along nicely. He knew from the get go that if he was to get Dutch away from Hosea, he’d need to break them up, and the best way to do that was remove the girl, and violently. He just needed to get rid of the old man next, because even though the two weren’t as close as they once were, Hosea still asserted control over Dutch. Without Hosea, Micah knew he would be able to convince Dutch to do his bidding. And he knew the job in Blackwater was just the right starting place.


End file.
